


Redemption

by snowstormjonerys



Category: bethyl - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2422967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowstormjonerys/pseuds/snowstormjonerys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth was a temple to him and his fingers were tiptoeing their way over her body like arranging candles on a shrine. A Bethyl song prompt of "Take me to Church" by Hozier.  (smut)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redemption

_My lover's got humour_  
She's the giggle at a funeral  
Knows everybody's disapproval  
I should've worshipped her sooner  
If the Heavens ever did speak  
She is the last true mouthpiece  
Every Sunday's getting more bleak  
A fresh poison each week  
'We were born sick,' you heard them say it  
My church offers no absolutes  
She tells me 'worship in the bedroom'  
The only heaven I'll be sent to  
Is when I'm alone with you  
I was born sick, but I love it  
Command me to be well  
Amen. Amen. Amen 

_Take me to church_  
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies  
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife  
Offer me that deathless death  
Good God, let me give you my life 

_No masters or kings when the ritual begins_  
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin  
In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene  
Only then I am human  
Only then I am clean  
Amen. Amen. Amen 

He didn't know how they got to this point so quickly. At least in his mind the time had passed swiftly, though in all other aspects of their lives time passed like the slow creep of a hot summer day. He knew though if you asked Beth Greene, that she would say it took forever. He supposed if he really thought about it, they had been working up to this moment since that moonshine shack. That's where it had started for him anyway.

They had talked about it now. She had asked him; always having to be in the know, his Beth. It had taken him damn near a whole day to answer her question but he finally did, waiting until everyone had bed down for the night and they were left alone around the campfire. It was two days after he and Carol had found her. She had been making a run between Terminus and Grady, the hospital where she was a part of a community for the time they spent apart. She had tried to get away for several weeks and only managed to escape a couple of days before Daryl and Carol stumbled across her, making her way through the forest, nothing more on her person than a knife and pistol holding 4 bullets. Carol had been downright shocked to find her in one piece and not bit. Daryl had known better. He had trained her for just such an event at her insistence.

_"You won't always be there to protect me Daryl. I gotta learn how to take care of myself."_

That had been months ago now. That's when he had started teaching her how to track, to hunt, to kill. He knew she had never killed another living soul, not his Beth. It's why he had drilled it in her head, you do what you have to do. Do what you have to do to survive. It was kind of the mantra of their group. They'd all done the worst kinds of things just to stay alive. Rick had said it on more than on occasion. And she had stayed alive. She had. Thank god or whoever the hell was up there these days. Sometimes he wondered. Sometimes he found it didn't really matter what he believed.

Even though Beth was the first one to make a move, her fingers so soft, so feather-light that if hadn't watched her reach out for him he would have thought that he imagined the ghosting of her fingers over the skin of his chest, threading her fingers through the smattering of hair there. He gazed at her as she never let her eyes stray from where her fingers touched, as if she was absorbing him through the pads of her fingers. It was exhilarating, it was torture, it was terrifying and he felt that familiar swirl of fear in his gut. But as afraid as he was, he liked it too, this exploration of hers. She traced her fingers slowly over each plane of muscle and he marveled as much at the reverence with which she touched him as the fact that he was able to even draw breath as she did it.

Beth had lost a bit of weight on the road and as such, she was unable to hold much body heat. Immediately upon entering the house, he had deemed it too cold to sleep in the bedroom and had promptly moved the mattress down in front of the fireplace and built a roaring fire from the neatly stacked wood on the back porch.

They had found their way to the Alexandria Safe Zone. They had been processed and given housing within the space of a half a day of getting there. By some unspoken agreement, they were sharing a house together. It might have bothered Daryl before; being put into such a domestic category.

The fucking world had ended, his old life was over, they had been to hell and back more times than any of them could count and here he was, Daryl Dixon shacking up with Beth Greene. Here they were now, a fire burning in the fireplace on a late March evening, the hearthstone glow casting the room in dancing shadows and painting Beth in a warm honey backdrop. She was absolutely fucking beautiful and it sucked the breath out of him sometimes. She was almost like an otherworldly being with her flaxen hair, now brushed to a fine sheen after the longest shower he'd ever seen her take. Not that he'd watched, though she had made him stay outside the door while she did, old habits dying hard and all that. He wondered vaguely how long it would take for them to trust that they were truly safe. They were at least a mile inside the walls of the zone and he still felt uneasy not barricading the front and back doors of this house.

He drew in a sharp breath as Beth's fingers skimmed lower, tracing the hard planes of his abdomen, splaying her fingers as she finally looked up at him. "You can touch me you know." She breathed, her face turned up towards his, her lower lip inviting. He felt a deep ache within him at her words.

"Don't know that I should." He knew his voice was gruff, couldn't be helped. It was true. He felt if he touched her he might shatter her, might shatter this moment, might shatter this thing between them. It was just an unnamed powerful fucking force what he felt for Beth, as if all the life got sucked out of him while at the same time filling him back up with a heavy sweet nectar, weighting down his bones, seeping in and making him ache and want and feel sated all at the same time. It was overwhelming, intoxicating.

"You should. Do you trust me?" Beth's sweet voice had turned sultry like molasses in quicksand and he could feel her breath on his neck.

He looked down at her, impossibly lost in her baby blues, and nodded. Of course he trusted her. In the space of a few months, it felt like he had sliced himself open a thousand ways and let her see in through all the cracks where all the parts of him bled. It was like she had some sort of powerful balm, healing up all the places he didn't even know were broken.

He didn't know if God existed, but he knew one thing, if he did, he sent this angel to him. She was just like that, a goddamn saint in his book. She knew all the ways to talk to him, soothe his soul and she knew all the ways to make him think and fight and act. She'd ignited more than one argument with him even since they'd been reunited. Most of the time it was over this very thing here; how far they could take it. How far he was willing to go before he pulled back, under the weight of his guilt.

He reckoned it would always be a mystery to him, something he'd never be able to figure out as long as he drew breath, why she had picked him. It just couldn't be real, that's what his mind often told him. That this wasn't real, that she wasn't real, hell that maybe even he wasn't real. Maybe this was all a damn dream and he was really back in his old life where everything stank of rot and death and decay, even though there was no such thing as walkers there. That's the road he had been on, a one-way road to self-destruction. It's just the way it was then. Merle too.

He knew as much as he did want to dream away his old life that it was a part of him. Would always be a part of him, those sins of his old life had carried into this one and he wore them like a shroud, heavy, prickly, crippling. Sometimes he felt like he might collapse of the guilt that he was glad for what he had now. He needed redemption in the worst way but with no heaven, no hell and no certainty of any god, where was he to get it?

Beth climbed on his lap and straddled him where he sat propped at the back of the sofa. They'd been here before too. She moved her hands down to his and ever so slowly intertwined their fingers together, his work-worn hands against her soft ones, like granite on satin. She moved their hands of one accord to her hips. They'd come this far before, he knew. He remembered every inch of skin he'd ever touched on her and he'd memorized every curve of her hips where his hands now rested. He watched, unable to take his eyes off her graceful, fluid movements as she grasped the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head, leaving her breasts bared to him. It wasn't like he hadn't ever seen her tits before. He had, plenty of times. You didn't come to live in one another's pockets for years at a time and maintain any shred of modesty you had started out with. He was sure she'd seen more of him than she'd ever bargained for.

He'd never be able to figure why she'd want to touch him, why she'd want him to touch her, but he was just grateful for it. He knew he could spent a thousand nights like tonight pondering it, touching her, ghosting his fingers over her hips and tracing light lines back and forth over her skin. All at once he just had to know what the bare skin of her back felt like. His fingers moved like they had held her like this a million times before and he slid his hands around to her back, feeling her draw in a breath and utter a tiny gasp as he slid his palms over her delicate ribs.

He knew the Bible, it might be the only thing his dear departed mama ever taught him was the ways of the word of god. He remembered hearing what it said about the body being a temple. He figured that was what Beth was. She was a temple and his fingers were tiptoeing their way around her like arranging candles on a shrine. And it was an apt description too, because it felt like his fingers were on fire all the sudden and wanting to burn their way all over her body like a brand. He slid his hands slowly down her back and cupped his palms, digging his fingers in a bit to slide their way under the waistband of her sweat pants, digging in a bit more at the top of her ass before sliding down to cup her ass. He felt her answering moan, feeling the hot puff of breath at the hollow of his throat and it incited a rush of chills all over his body. He didn't even think about the fact that his fingers had never strayed below the waist. Didn't think about the fact that this was new territory. It was as if once he entered the temple, this sacred ground, he was helpless to cross the threshold. Now, here he was, undressing Beth Greene, slowly, her hips writhing a bit under his fingers, impatient for him to finish this. To start this. He wasn't sure what it as, all he knew was as he looked down at her, he was lost, his eyes feeling heavier than they'd ever felt with any drug Merle had once talked him into shooting into his veins.

As if she was sensing his thoughts she whispered. "Need to take these off." Her fingers went to the fly of his pants. Within a few seconds, they had, together, worked his pants and his boxers from his body, leaving him bare, his cock traitorously throbbing between them. He hadn't even realized how turned on he was until this moment. Hadn't realized how much he wanted her, desired her, wanted to give himself to her. Hell he knew he'd give his life for her, why not his body and soul too. Might hurt less to look at her that way.

He looked back up at her and she looked at him and he was lost again but yet he saw himself in her eyes. He saw her faith in him, saw her trust. He looked at her and wanted to weep with what he felt and now that he realized it, he couldn't believe it took him this long to figure it all out. It was love. It was love. It was love.

"Love." He breathed it and got choked on that one word, the elusive one meant for other people. Not for him. He couldn't say it and he looked at her helplessly.

Beth took one look at him and immediately began to croon to him. "Shhh, Daryl, it's okay." She always knew what to fucking say. But he was helpless then and the sob that was torn from his throat by the sheer force of the realization that he loved her was guttural. He buried his face in her chest, great hiccupping sobs pouring from him. He didn't know if he cried from relief of the feeling or relief of the realization, all he knew was that it was a relief.

He knew this was about the least manly thing a person could do was break down and cry on a girl but it's exactly what he did. Daryl Dixon cried into the naked bosom of Beth Greene and he wasn't even ashamed because somehow he felt like he'd been bled of all the bad, stripped raw and bleeding, but somehow healed. Somehow in loving her, he'd found it. He'd found the redemption that he had never knew he needed, that he didn't think he deserved. It wouldn't do now to keep it from her another second. "I love you." The words tumbled out of his mouth on top of one another.

"I love you too, Daryl. I love you too." Beth nodded and tears were streaming down her own face as she put her one hand on either side of his face, her delicate palms on his hardened jaw and smiled at him. "I know you do. I've always known." She brought her lips to his and he could taste their tears, intermingled, just like the rest of them, as if they were one and suddenly the one thing that she'd been asking of him and he'd been unable to give was something he desired more than anything. He needed to have her, to claim her, to worship her, revere her.

As much as he wanted to take her, just take her, he wanted to give to her as well. He'd sacrifice his soul to give her what she deserved. He pulled his lips from hers even as he moved his hands from his safety net position, her hips, and pressed his palms against her skin as he glided his hands upwards, coming to rest on her breasts. She moaned and gasped as he pulled his hands away slightly to brush the pads of his thumbs over her hardened nipples. He dipped his head and took one nipple in his mouth, drawing the pert bud between his teeth ever so slightly and hearing her hiss as he suckled and kneaded her other breast with his hand. He ran the flat of his tongue over her nipple tracing an imaginary wavy line with the tip over to her other breast and repeating the whole process again.

He had a sudden desire to see her lying completely naked beneath him, needed it like he needed air and he had the brief thought that it was the probably of the most natural human responses to have, predator to prey or worshipper to god, it didn't matter, the result was the same. He laid her down gently on the bed and she laid there, watching him, eyes curious pools of lust. It was if she was drinking in every moment. "I love you, Beth". He just felt the need to tell her again, an offering of sorts as he gazed upon her amazing body, creamy satiny skin, all milk and honey in the glow of the fire, each curve deliciously licked by the dancing shadows.

Daryl meant to follow the path with his lips. He started with her hips, that curve, that perfect dip. She pulled her legs up slightly and she reached down to thread her fingers through his hair. He ghosted his lips over every surface up her petal-soft skin, stopping along the way to kiss her nipples and then traveling upward before resting on her lips. He flitted his tongue out tracing the seam of her lips until felt her open her mouth, ready, waiting, accepting his tongue, giving and taking. He skimmed his fingers down lower to the perfect flat of her belly, hovering there and pulled back to look at her at the same time and he tilted his to look at her face. She pulled her eyes up to his and met his gaze, fervently and he saw the raw desire there. The need, the want and he didn't need to ask, it was implied as he dipped his hand down to part her wet folds, even as she spread her legs wide for him, just for him, and he slipped his fingers into her lips. He groaned at the slick velvet feel of her sliding against his fingers. Her pussy was dripping wet and it was all for him. He didn't even think about it as he brought his fingers to his lips, watching her eyelids drop even lower and her mouth fell open slightly her breath coming in pants. He licked every single drop of her juices from his fingers, her tangy, musky taste nearly making him cum in his pants.

With a growl he didn't even recognize, he dipped his fingers back down, pushing one finger inside her and watched her head fall back and her mouth drop open. He flicked his finger inside her, finding that rough spot, and felt her start to tremble as he finger-fucked her pussy like it was something he did every day. He reached one hand behind her head, wove his fingers through her silken locks and pulled her head to his, making her taste herself on his mouth. She groaned into his mouth and he swallowed her passionate cry as she came apart beneath his fingers. He pulled back to watch her, her breath coming in short raspy pants and her cheeks more flush in the firelight, lips plumped and kiss-scorched. She looked as if she had been well and truly fucked and he hadn't even done it yet. He knew watching her come out of her orgasmic haze that she would likely be the death of him, her being a mere 19 years old and he being an old as dirt redneck, but it'd be a death he'd gladly welcome.

He positioned his body over hers and looked down on her as he braced himself. She spread her legs wide leaving herself open to his lust-starved eyes. It fucking blew his mind how dry his mouth went just looking at her absolutely fucking perfect pussy, lips swollen and dripping wet. Fucking ironic is what it was. He needed an affirmation of this. Needed to know that in this infinite space of time carved out of the universe just for them that she hadn't changed her mind about them taking this next step. "Is this okay?" He was asking more than how his arms were positioned or whether he was holding his body weight off of her enough.

And she knew, fuck she knew it. She knew it like she always knew everything else, just by looking at him. He knew he only showed this side to her and that no one else in the whole entire universe would ever see this side of him; he knew it was because it only existed in her presence.

She nodded at him fervently. "Yes, Daryl. It's more than okay. I want you to make love to me." He knew she was a virgin, it was one of her go-to's for convincing him to take the very step they were taking now; that she didn't want to die a virgin. She placed her hands on his chest as he reached between them, grasping his painfully hard cock in his hand and guiding it to her center. He ran the head of his dick up and down her slick folds, lubricating it for easier passage. He didn't want to hurt her, but knew she would likely feel a little. He dragged his dick back towards her opening, slowly easing himself into her, stopping every second along the way and it was aching and maddening the tightness enveloping his cock, exquisite pressure and pleasure. As he pressed forward and met that unmistakable barrier, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Beth's as he pushed through, feeling her gasp a little into his mouth, stilling his hips.

He kissed her slowly, languidly, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. He pulled back to look at her for a moment. She nodded at him and she wiggled her hips beneath him and he experimentally pulled his hips back and she stopped moving and groaned and then moaned as he slid himself back inside her. He repeated this a few times until his rhythm found purchase and she brought her hands up around his neck as he held himself off of her. She was so unbelievably tight he didn't know how long he could last.

He dipped his head low, pressing his lips to hers, shakily, barely holding it together, his desire thrumming through every pore in his body. He pulled back again and looked into her eyes as he pushed back into her again. "I love you." He whispered, again an offering, giving her his all, burying himself into her, burrowing his very soul into all the safeness of her.

"I love you." She whispered back and she began to move her hips in earnest, meeting his thrusts and he gathered her up in his arms and the changed angle had her panting his name after a few seconds and he felt her second orgasm coming all around him. Suddenly it was too, too much, her inner walls squeezing his cock. It was seconds later when he followed her over that edge, spiraling out of control and she pulled her hands from around his neck to cup his face in her palms. He looked into her eyes as long as he could until he was pulled under by the weight of his release, spinning, spinning until he was sated. It might have been seconds, minutes or hours when he pulled himself from her, and feeling the absence of her warmth made him unbelievably sad and he pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair, breathing her in, intoxicated on her scent, on their scent; sex minced with a hunter's prowess and an angel's stardust.

He laid back and she leaned up on one elbow, smiling at him lazily. "Now that wasn't so bad was it?" She was looking very pleased with herself.

He smirked, not wanting her to see how right she was but unable to hide how happy he was that he had finally been able to get to this point. To this point where all this made sense to him and didn't feel like such a mind-fuck that numbed everything he tried to feel. Somewhere between them walking through the gates of the safe zone and this fragmented space of time he had let go of any preconceived notions about him and Beth and what they meant to each other. They just were.

He cleared his throat, finally finding his voice. "Just cause I took your virginity and you ain't gotta die a virgin, don't mean you get to die now." He said, his voice coming out much rougher than he wanted to. He swallowed past the inevitable lump. He didn't ever want to think about being without her. Not ever again. It was not even a fucking option in his mind.

She giggled and laid her head down on his chest, in that one spot that seemed to be carved out to fit her perfectly. He pulled his arm around her and pulled the covers up over the both of them, his legs tangled in hers and every inch of them touching the other. All these years of sensory deprivation suddenly evaporated and it was as if he couldn't touch her enough. He didn't know how it would be in front of the others but he figured they could deal with it when the time came.

"I ain't goin' nowhere. You planning on gettin' rid of me?" She said coyly, her sex strained voice about the sexiest thing he'd ever heard pass her lips.

He shook his head and hummed his response and then followed with. "No way. You're stuck with me as long as you'll have me." He brought his other thumb up to his lip and wondered at how long they would have. Would they have the next week, the next month. He marveled for a minute that his brain had even allowed him to think that far ahead. He figured it must be her and her unfailing hope, worked its way under his skin again.

"Forever." She'd raised up on one elbow again and she was looking at him. He turned to look at her, taking in her watery pools of blue.

He leaned up and kissed the corner of her eye catching her tears on his lips. "Forever" He whispered against her skin.

She folded herself into him and they laid there, soaking it in, their love combined seeping into the marrow of their bones, strengthening their bond.

He knew there would never be another sweeter night in his entire existence that could compare to how he felt right now. He felt lighter somehow, like the haze of regret and sorrow and guilt over his past life had lifted and he was left in this airier place where he felt like he was emerging from a long deep sleep. He was awake. He was alive. He was in love. He had come from a place of despair and sick and now he felt like he was well and whole. He looked down at her, feeling her breathing even out, slipping her into that blissful place where nothing real could hurt you.

For the first time in his life, Daryl felt like he wasn't just nothing, nobody. He felt like in giving his whole self to Beth he was given something even greater in return, something even better than love. Something even better than pleasure. She had given him absolution from a self-imposed prison of shame. He shed it all with her. All that was left now was him, Daryl Dixon in love with Beth Greene and nothing else mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Please be kind this is a little different than anything I have written for Bethyl before.


End file.
